


Another Dance

by Fluidfyre



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Kissing, Nudity, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluidfyre/pseuds/Fluidfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starting when Solas finds Inquisitor Lavellan on the balcony in Halamshiral, when the politics of the masquerade have resolved, and leading back to their guest quarters on the palace grounds...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Dance

            Solas’ steps guided them with trained ease. It was like the times in the rotunda, in camp as the scouts and Bull looked on with a grin, teaching her feet where they would be needed to follow the dance of the masquerade. But now it was just them, and in the sky overhead stars showed between the clouds. The music of the party seemed to fade, as did all the chatter, the bloodshed evening, and the ringing words of the Empress. Taliah Lavellan kept his gaze, and his eyes and smile relaxed, his hand a heat spreading across the small of her back. He gave her other hand a small squeeze as he turned with the music, never letting her drift from his arms.

            “I still can’t escape the idea of you having fun here.”

            “It is fascinating,” Solas said and tilted his head, the steps moving them further along the balcony. “The webs we weave, quite literally. The finesse with which you navigated the court was admirable.”

            “Between Leliana’s tutelage and how Vivienne treats me any time she sees me, it’s easy enough to understand the game. I can play it.”

            “Indeed.”

            Her eyes were on his nose, on his lips, on the curve of his neck. “It isn’t me.”

            “I know.”

            “But they think so.”

            Solas turned them again, his nose tracing down her cheek so that he could kiss the curve of her jaw, speaking by her ear, “And they adore you for it.”

            Taliah’s reply was breathy and low. “Can you handle the competition?”  
            Solas chuckled and smiled, his hand tightening across the fabric of her uniform, and again his lips found her jaw, slipping to her neck.

            “Such scandal I…” Her lips parted as his did on her skin. “Wait, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”  
            “What else was I to do while you took your pieces from the board?”

            Taliah laughed as their eyes met again. “And when we fought the Venatori?”

            “Not then.”  
            “I see,” she said and smirked. “But the fade rift?”

            “Perhaps.”

            Taliah couldn’t keep from smiling. “I’m impressed. Between you and Dorian, how did we escape without burning the palace down?"

            They both laughed and drifted closer, bellies and hips touching now, the music changing and Solas following it to slow their steps. The party didn’t seem to matter anymore, the masked guests a murmur and shadow, moths that pulled to the light while they danced in starlight. Taliah’s hand slid up his shoulder, up his cheek, and tugged on the odd hat atop his head. She smiled more, and he kissed her fingers as they passed over his mouth and chin.

            “I asked you to come tonight because I’m selfish. I was terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing, here more than anywhere. But if you’re nearby, if I could leave the room and see your face, or hear your voice… I can think, someone like me is just a step away. It’s easier.”

            “I… am glad for it.” Their noses touched again, breath on one another’s lips.

            “No hardship for you it seems,” she said, all smiles. “Intrigue.”

            He nodded.

            “Beautiful women.”  
            He chuckled through closed lips.

            “And a dance with,” Taliah drew a breath to imitate the chamberlain, “The Herald of Andraste, Leader of the Inquisition and beloved of the Faithful! Who vanquished the rebel mages and liberated Redcliffe of Ferelden!”  
            “It is quite the honour for this humble serving man. Though the recipient of your last dance has been publicly shamed and clapped in irons as a result. Should I be wary?”

            “Ohhh I couldn’t do that,” she whispered, nose to nose again. “Maybe, but I won’t.”

            The music changed again, the only sound escaping the ballroom now. Solas drew her hand in against his chest, improper for the ball, but their work done, it seemed of little concern. Taliah leant her head against his neck, looking at the stars, at the dark wings of the palace where the bodies of so many lay. His hand crept up her back, a slow sweep up and down as their feet moved with the slower tempo.

            “Even if my clan wouldn’t agree, I think Briala will help in the future. It’s a step, isn’t it? It isn’t what we once were, but it… this can be about forgiveness. I imagine quite a few shemlen are going to be upset by what happened tonight.”

            “Let them be.”

            “Yes,” she chuckled, the hand on his shoulder slipping beneath her chin. Her eyes roamed over the roofs of the palace. “Would you run over the roofs with me? Go lay at the peak and stare at the stars? I don’t have to impress anyone anymore.”

            “I fear I haven’t your balance and grace, it’s more likely I’d end up down in the gardens.”

            “Can we leave yet?” she whispered, and lifted her head. The smirk on her lips was not unlike that which had met many a masked face that night. “I’d like to get out of these clothes, and have a few drink myself. Probably some etiquette to it, though I am attending as the guest of an exile now...”

            Turning her back toward the railing, Solas covered her mouth in a kiss. Taliah inhaled through her nose, her hand tightening in the back of his jacket as she pressed up into his lips. There was a soft smack as they parted, and she sighed, liquid eyes meeting his gaze. He stepped out of her arms, bowing as the music finished, and kissed her hand.

            “Ohh…” Taliah shook her head, and it only made him smile more. “This is payback, isn’t it?”

            “Hardly, I—“

            “Inquisitor?” They both turned to see Cullen and Leiliana in the doorway. The General stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back, but Leiliana grinned, close-lipped. Cullen tilted his head and said, “I do not mean to interrupt.”

            “He wants to know if he can leave.”

            “Only if I can too,” Taliah Lavellan said and smirked as Leiliana laughed. “What would you say, Nightingale?”

            “You hardly need my permission! Many will stay until almost sunrise, but you might leave now without incident. I’m not sure you could do much to earn the court’s disregard now.”

            “And I am the boss,” Taliah said, smiling against as she led through the doors and back into the music.

 

                                    *                                  *                      *

 

            Guest quarters lined the lawn beyond the gates of the main palace, untouched by the night’s bloodshed. It was another half hour more before Lavellan was out the gate, stopped at each pace by another tipsy noble. Solas remained in her wake, his subtle grin ever in her periphery, a hand touching her arm or the small of her back. The last pair of masked men earned barely a hand wave, as she led past the shrubbery and lanterns that lined the tiled walkway. Out of sight of the last nobles entering carriages, Lavellan’s hand dropped to wind her fingers together with Solas’. 

            “And suddenly, I was no longer the Dalish savage,” Lavellan said, looking between with a smirk. Her gaze lingered as he chuckled. “I’m sorry they all but ignored you.”

            “I enjoyed the view.”

            “I bet!”

            He chuckled and let go of her hand as she turned to their door. Solas touched her shoulders, fingers pressing down the cure of her waist and hips, gripping fabric as he kissed the back of her neck. Lavellan shivered in a tickled way, the fabric around her shoulders bunch as she pushed the door open. The foyer was lit by a pair of scones, and dark stairs led up to guest rooms and a banister for an open sitting room. There the fire roared, casting shadows of heads and animate hands.

            Solas lips were in Lavellan’s neck again, his hands around her waist to find the ornate buttons of the Inquisition dress jacket. Her lips parted as his did too, tongue swirling into her skin. Her eyes up the stairs and over the balcony railing where she could hear Cassandra and Cullen speaking. She stepped further into the room, almost knocking a side table by the door and the ornate carving upon it. There was heat on her cheeks, uncharacteristic, hearing Cullen laugh and the clink of wine glasses as Solas kissed her skin.

            His hand was on the sash and belt around her waist, they were loosened like the buttons, and one hand found her breast, pinning her in his arms. Her lips parted as his tongue found her ear, and a soft gasp escaped. Another pair of steps edged them towards the hallway, sliding in the dark while their compatriots chatted. Fingers rolled down her breast, while his crotched pressed against the cleft of her backside.

            “Best that we stay quiet,” he whispered, and Lavellan clamped her mouth shut as his teeth grazed down her ear, his breath leaving a sigh on her skin. Her jacket open and the sash loosed, his hips urged her forward another step, belly and breast into his hand. The jacket slipped down her shoulder, and his lips followed her skin, teeth and tongue, grazing and whorling.

            The movement at the top of the stairs drew Lavellan’s eyes, unfocused on the shifting shadows. Small nips followed the shape of her trapezius, his fingers strumming over her pert nipple. His legs moved, encouraging another step towards the dark hallway where her guest room was, thoughts ever returning to the bulge against her ass cheek. His free hand found her belly now, slipping beneath the waist of her trousers, and she sucked her stomach in, lightheaded as she leant back into him.

            Lavellan huffed out at the breath on her neck, Solas’ fingers wet and teasing. She blinked lengthily, pulse in her throat, and when her eyes opened there was movement upstairs. With a quick trio of steps they were in the hall, escaping the clomp overhead as they faced each other. His hand was still there beneath her smalls, and her own found his waist, teasing down his thigh in reply. The tips of their noses touched, breath meeting, lips brushing but not kissing as they touched in the dark. The hat tumbled off Solas’ head. Cullen’s voice was a murmur, the words didn’t matter, they blurred beneath Lavellan’s own murmur as Solas’ fingers slipped in and he kissed her to silence the groan.  

            The movements above became boots on the stairs, and their lips broke apart, a sparkling, huffed laugh on Lavellan’s lips. Disentangling her arms from her coat, she snagged Solas by his sash and dragged him the last few steps into the bedroom, clipping the door shut behind them as she heard Cassandra call out.

            Solas shook his head, a predatory grin captivating his lips as his hand found her waist. Lavellan laughed as he kissed her, the sound fading as she inhaled sharply through her nose and found the buttons of his coat. The kisses came in momentary touches and tongues, as hands made quick work of their garb.

            When his shirt was gone, her hands spread over skin, unable to keep the delighted sigh from escaping as he shucked his pants. She tugged the heel of her trousers off, and he gripped her ass, taking the steps to press her onto the bed. Their legs dangled, but his knee found a spot between hers, urging them further across the covers. Solas leaned over her, and his eyes roamed over her face, her neck, and the curves of her body in the dim light from the ember fire. He slipped off jawbone necklace that dangled between them and laid it with care on the bedside table. Hungry eyes returned, as did his hand down her breast, waist, and thigh, capturing skin and musculature. He leant into her lips again.

            When Lavellan’s hand went to his hip, his loins, Solas caught it and pinned it beside her head. Now his mouth was in her neck, and her head pressed back into the fine coverlet of the wide bed, body rising to his lips as they found her breast. Her breath huffed as he bit, the brief flesh of pain only magnifying the throb and rush of her pulse. Fingers on her thigh, Solas lifted her ass to meet him and filled her with a thrust that brought him nose-to-nose with her, his own hard breath mingling with her approving moan.

            Lavellan kneaded the back of his neck, his own hand gripping her backside while the other kept her tense arm pinned, kept it from touching him. She took a kiss though, aggressive nips and tongues plying as he jerked into a hard pace that creaked and swayed the bed with each thrust. Solas’ chin passed over her shoulder, each lips by the other’s ear, filling senses with sighs and murmurs, assent and pleading, to where he let her arm go so that he might envelop her with his own. Their skin stuck, and he cradled her head, other fingers digging into her ass, listening to her hastened breath and his own ragged, wordless voice. Solas’ teeth were in her neck again, rough, erratic nips now, unmatched by the roll of their hips together, Lavellan’s backside off the bed in his grasp. Her fingers splayed across his shoulder, nails down his back as the pitch of her voice hitched, and was lost in his lips, and tongue, and his own deep groan.

            But Lavellan couldn’t keep the kiss, her nose and lips dragged over his cheek to escape and suck a deep breath, fingers kneaded Solas’ shoulder, and scraped up his neck to encourage his mouth back into her neck. He panted there, and each gripped the other in a growing frantic pace. Lavellan’s mouth fell wide, shuddering and calling out, senses effaced in that glorious well and rush. A ravenous smile met her skin, his pant by her ear, and lips and teeth too, cheeks pressed together as he scarce abated, carrying her, relishing the pitch of her sweet distress.

            When Solas finally slowed, her lips smacked audibly as she heaved to take breath. Tense hands let Lavellan’s body relax into the bed, yet unwilling to pull away. Her hands traced his neck, his chest, and they kissed still, breathing hard, lashes and lips over mouths, cheeks, and chins.  Her head fell back into the bed though, eyes closed and cheeks flushed, breathing hard as he rolled to lie beside her. It was a moment before she opened her eyes to the ornate gold and scrollwork on the ceiling, and Lavellan laughed, smiling wide.

            Solas turned his head to her, half-lidded eyes on her lips. She rolled into his welcome arm, feet dangling off the side of the bed, and they kissed again. His fingers trailed down her spine, where beadwork from the refined coverlet had left dimples behind.

            “Mmmm _ma serannas_ ,” Lavellan murmured, kissing the curve of his jaw and his neck, before her head went heavy in the crook of his arm.

            Long fingers rifled through her short hair, and Solas smiled too, eyes closed as he turned on his side, wrapping his arms around her. His head lay heavy to let her kiss his neck, and he exhaled through his nose. “Likewise.” 


End file.
